The Chain of Command
by Sassy Satsuma
Summary: When Ghost deliberately disobeys his orders and nearly gets one of the team killed, Mactavish is livid. This leads to some pretty angry smut. SLASH. Written for Yunalein. Sorry for the repost, but all my story was before was an error message...


_**Warning! **_This fic is **slash**, so if you don't like that, don't read. I should probably also warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all, folks. :)

**Also! This chapter is rated M for explicit scenes. You have been warned.**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing to do with Roach, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. :)

**A note from Sassy:** Written for **Yunalein** because she told me that she wanted me to write more Soap/Ghost (especially more Soap!) so I hope you like it dear! Although part of the credit should go to **VerityA **too…who basically bullied me into finishing it… :P

* * *

He should have been used to washing blood of his hands by now. But something about it being the blood of his friend made the simple act all the more bitter in Soap's mind.

He was in the infirmary, both his hands shoved unceremoniously into a tiny, white porcelain sink whilst streams of water cascaded against his skin, red streaks drawing lines down towards the plug hole. Soap himself was barely paying any attention, the scrubbing motion of his hands on auto pilot; his mind fixed somewhere else entirely. He wasn't even aware that the water was on the painful side of hot, his blood already boiling deep within his veins.

"Scarecrow's stable." The deep almost passive tone of Chemo's voice was suddenly at his right and Mactavish spun round, spraying droplets of water across the floor as he did so. He fixed the medic with an intense stare, a sure sign for him to continue. "…He's going to be pretty out of it for some time."

"And the shrapnel?" The blunt directness of Soap's voice gave away his impatience.

"Gone. You were right not to deal with it in the field though…" Chemo shrugged, sliding off his latex gloves. "…He'd have bled to death."

"Any lasting damage?"

"I can't be sure. He needs to recover before I can assess him properly."

"And in the mean time?"

"We _wait_, sir. " Chemo sighed. "Hope…pray; do whatever you like." He paused, turning round as on cue Scarecrow's unconscious body was wheeled into the infirmary, the heavy double doors leading to the operating theatre clanging loudly behind him. "Just make sure it's quiet. He needs rest."

Soap wasn't in the habit of blaming other people for his mistakes. After all, that wasn't how command worked. You didn't lead men into life threatening situations without taking full and complete responsibility for their welfare, for their very lives. And anyone who did make a mockery of that responsibility, no matter how close to him they might be, would always be completely and utterly wrong in Mactavish's eyes.

"Royce!" The authoritative bark in Soap's voice made the other soldier jump immediately and he span round to face the Captain, his eyes quickly sensing that he was in a foul mood, feet automatically retreating backwards from him.

"Sir?"

"You seen Ghost?" Again the direct, almost alien sound to Soap's words was unmistakeable and in his eyes at least, completely justified.

"He went to his room…mentioned something about not being needed for a debrief."

"Did he?" Soap scoffed. "Well he's wrong."

"Clearly."

"I want you to go find him for me."

"Why me, sir?"

"Because I asked." Soap gave him a quick, forced smile. "Tell him I expect him in my office for a debrief in ten minutes."

"Sir…" The other man knowingly replied with a simple nod.

"Oh and Royce…" He'd already begun striding down the corridor to his office, but Soap quickly turned around, half speaking over his shoulder. "If he even thinks of telling you he's busy, just remind him of who exactly is keeping him in the 141 right now…Ok?"

* * *

Ten minutes had felt like ten hours. Soap had shut himself in his office and opened up his laptop as a distraction, but it hadn't helped. He was meant to be writing a report for Shepherd, but every time he stared at the blank screen he could feel his blood beginning to boil again. In truth, he _needed_ answers himself. The operation had been a blur from the moment the mortars had struck and the struggle to disable them so that they could get the casevac bird in had felt relentless. Soap glanced at his watch. He'd barely had time to think, never mind assess the situation in any great detail. _Until_ he got to the infirmary, sat, drenched in one of his men's blood, waiting for any news on his condition. He'd been there before, but usually the feeling was of guilt, the intense feeling riddling his insides, that little voice at the back of his head chastising him for not doing more. But this time, he hadn't been guilty. He'd been livid, frustrated,_ confused_. His orders had been deliberately disobeyed and as a result one of his men had come close to losing his life, another one of them very nearly injured in the process.

And if Ghost thought that Soap's command no longer applied to him, then he was very wrong indeed.

In some ways the ties between the men of the 141 held them together, made them stronger as a unit. In others the deep sense of companionship they all shared had its downsides. Strong friendships were always forged in battle, but they were easily severed too and any death or injury would send shockwaves through the task force, no matter whether the men chose to acknowledge it or not. But Soap would be lying if he said that his friendship with Ghost was the same as with the other men. After all, Riley was his _best_ friend, his right hand man, his second in command. He was also a man who Soap had made a rash error in judgement with by fucking. To be blunt, that was all it was, there was no love or real affection behind the act, but it had still shifted the dynamic between them and given Ghost a new foothold with which to challenge his Captain. It had given Riley an advantage, one that the brash and arrogant lieutenant was quick to use.

There was a sharp knock at the door, instantly awakening Soap from his thoughts. He sat up straight in his chair, his right hand clenching so tightly that his short nails bit hard into his palm. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone calm and controlled.

"Yes?"

"…You wanted to see me." It was a statement more than a question as Riley stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He was, like Soap himself, still dressed in his combat gear, mud from the mortar fire splashed up across his chest. Surprisingly he was without his mask, as Soap found a pair of pale, icy blue eyes staring at him intently, almost defiantly. The Captain swallowed hard. Ghost didn't seem to want to make this easy and Soap was painfully aware that the lieutenant knew_ just_ how to anger him at the best of times.

"It's customary to debrief after an operation, lieutenant." Soap practically spat. "Or did you forget?"

"Didn't think you'd want to see me."

"I see." The Captain shook his head. "Giving me orders again then?" He stood up from his desk slowly, deliberately keeping his angry eyes trained on Riley. "So you've forgotten how command works too?"

"I haven't forgotten anything, _sir._" The word was forced from Ghost's lips.

"Then I'm going to say this calmly…_once._" Biting his lip, Soap took a step forward, edging around his desk. "Why did you disobey my orders?"

It was the question that Soap had wanted, no, needed to ask all along. Ever since he'd heard on the comms that Ghost and his team were advancing on the mortar position, even after he had given Ghost express orders to remain dug into their position. It was the question that had been etched through his mind as he had heard that Scarecrow was down, the same question that had been burning through his thoughts as they secured a perimeter for the casevac helicopter. The same question that right now felt like such a fucking _betrayal_.

"I thought you were wrong." The lieutenant's slight shrug and seemingly vacant expression was enough to ignite Soap's anger.

"That's it?" He had given up trying to control his voice now, anger coursing through his words as a result. "You nearly got Scarecrow and Ozone killed and that's all you can fucking say?"

"What more do you want from me?"

"Remorse might be a fucking start." The Captain scoffed. "You _knew_ the situation. You _knew _that you were in direct sight of the mortars…" He tailed off, his words no longer able to keep up with the rapid movement of his thoughts. "I_ told_ you to sit tight…"

"And I told you that our odds were better with two groups advancing…not one…" Ghost shook his head quickly. "But no…you had to go and play the fucking _hero_…"

"Playing hero? I wasn't the one who ran my team straight into mortar fire."

"If we hadn't have advanced when we did-"

"Then what, Riley?" Exhaling sharply, Mactavish closed the distance between them, being sure to use every millimetre of his height advantage in the process. "Are you seriously trying to justify what you did? After what happened to Scarecrow?"

"I didn't know-"

"You didn't think!" Soap was pushing forwards, a hard shove forcing its way against the lieutenant's shoulders. Riley was momentarily wrong footed, but his anger was clear as he stepped forwards again, deliberately getting into Mactavish's face.

"I did what was _right_."

"You disobeyed orders." Mactavish spat, tilting his head and glaring harder into Riley's eyes. "As a result a man nearly died." The Captain rolled his eyes. "I need an XO I can _trust_, Riley."

"You need an XO who is willing to do whatever it takes…"

"No!" Soap shook his head. "I need someone who _listens _to orders…who I know will fucking follow them." He gave Ghost a distinctly serious look. "And that's no longer you."

"So what?" Anger flared in the lieutenant's eyes. "I fuck up once and you're getting rid of me?"

"I didn't say that." Mactavish replied bitterly. "But the task force can't have two COs… That's not how this works." He sighed dismissively, waving his hand at Ghost. "I'm finished with this, you can go."

"So that you can grass me up to Shepherd?"

"That's none of your fucking business." Soap spat in return, turning his back on Ghost as if to prove a point. "You're _dismissed_, lieutenant."

There was the rustle of clothing that came with Ghost turning to go, but Soap kept his back turned, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath inwards. Somehow, though he wasn't exactly sure how, he had managed to relatively keep his cool. Or at the very least, not swipe that arrogant, passive expression for Riley's features…

"You know…this must be nice for you…" As soon as he heard Ghost speak from behind him, Soap knew that there was going to be trouble. "…You've finally got someone else to blame, haven't you? _Sir_?" He paused, obviously waiting for an answer that Soap didn't want to give.

"I told you to _go._"

"You're desperate for someone else to blame, right?" He laughed darkly when Soap didn't reply. "I bet this is like your fucking birthday…an excuse for you to pin some guilt onto me."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Don't I?" Riley smirked as Soap spun round to face him again. "Or do you just want me to keep my mouth shut?" He scoffed, stepping that little bit closer to Soap. "Hitting a nerve am I?"

"Riley…" Soap warned. "I fucking told you-"

"Yeah, yeah, you told me…but let's face it…if I was any one of the other guys out there you'd have already thrown me out."

"You're no different."

"Really?" Ghost laughed huskily. "I think I am. Because like it or not…I _know _you. And I know that you think I'm damn good at my job…" He paused, looking Mactavish knowingly in the eyes. "So I know that this little anger act of yours isn't just about me…"

"You don't fucking _know_ anything." Mactavish spat, pushing him away. "And don't you even think of trying to get into my head again…"

"Too good at it am I?" Riley smirked again. "Typical. You can give it out but as soon as someone starts giving it all back to you, then you can't handle it?" He snarled. "So what happens when _you _mess up? When men _die_ because of you? Does Shepherd stand there and try and make you feel like shit too?"

"I know when I've made a mistake…"

"And I _know_ what I did today…I carried Scarecrow out of that fucking mortar crater remember?" Finally there was a flash of remorse across Ghost's cold eyes. "But if you think that you can stand there and try and guilt trip me into an apology…then to be blunt, sir…you can go _fuck _yourself." He coupled the words with an indignant shove to Soap's chest. "Because I've never let anyone bully me…and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you and your fucking guilty conscience start now…"

Soap wasn't quite sure why he punched him, maybe it was because his words had been a little too true, or maybe it was just the fact that Riley still had the audacity to challenge him, even now. Either way Soap wasn't even aware that he had until he saw Riley stagger backwards away from him, a hand reaching up to instinctively cradle his face. Mactavish stalked after him; pushing the lieutenant against the far wall and laying another punch, this one more precise, to his mouth, watching with satisfaction as a trickle of blood begin to form at the edge of his mouth. The desire to hit him again was suddenly so strong, like blood lust and Soap indulged it, striking out against Riley's face, harder this time. The lieutenant's head snapped back against the wall with a resounding crack and Soap felt a sick grin force its way across his features as his hands reached out to grab at Riley's hair. But this time, Ghost decided to fight back and he blocked Mactavish's movements, using the moment of uncertainty to land a heavy punch to the Captain's ribs. The air knocked well and truly out of him, Soap doubled over involuntarily, giving Riley the perfect opportunity to land a hard uppercut to his jaw, sending him reeling backwards towards his desk.

His vision was hazy, but Riley didn't let up, pulling Mactavish upright by his neck, a heavy knee powering upwards and hitting him in the stomach, a painful splutter forcing its way through his lips. He was upright long enough to see Riley smile, before the knee thundered into his ribs again, his eyelashes fluttering across his vision as Soap doubled up in pain. He heard the figure in front of him laugh and encouraged by this the Captain barged forwards, his hands breaking the hold that Ghost had on his shoulders. What followed was a mere battle of strength, both men's hand fighting for control, clawing and grabbing at their bodies in an attempt to get any form of powerful, controlling hold. Through sheer brute strength, Soap managed to get the upper hand, managing to pin one of Riley's arms firmly behind his back and powering forwards so that the lieutenant became quickly crushed between Soap's body and the wall. The Captain snarled before decisively sinking his teeth into the skin at Ghost's neck.

They were both bloody, exhausted and beaten, but that didn't stop Ghost's body arching up into the action as Soap bit down again, the metallic tang of blood tainting his tongue. The taste only continued to send him into another lustful haze, as he ran his mouth across the areas that he had savaged, sharp, punctuated sucks aimed at every pressure point available on Riley's neck. Next to him, Riley's body bucked and quivered, making a feeble attempt to throw him off as Soap growled, punctuating his authority by shoving the lieutenant's body against the wall again, so hard that this time it knocked the air right from his lungs. Mactavish however gave him no time to breathe, knotting his hands in Riley's shirt collar and dragging him towards his desk.

Their hands were clumsy as they fumbled with belts and zippers, Soap's hands smacking Ghost's away as he forced down his trousers and boxers so that they pooled round the lieutenant's ankles. A few near painful strokes had Ghost groaning in his grasp and were enough of an incentive, forcing several expletives to tumble from Mactavish's lips as he forced Ghost to turn round and pushed him forcefully across his desk, the items strewn across it long forgotten. Pushing down his own trousers with one hand, two hasty fingers were the only warning that Ghost got until Mactavish slicked himself with saliva and snapped his hips forward in a way that was built more to hurt than to actually cause pleasure.

It wasn't really about Ghost getting off, but that didn't seem to deter him as Soap began to move his hips, his thrusts angry and his pace brutal. Their mouths leaked indecent abuse, coupled with guttural grunts and deep hisses as Mactavish increased his pace, his fingers scratching and scraping down Riley's thighs. He maintained his frantic pace until the body beneath him tightened, forcing him to close his eyes and ride out his own, heart stopping climax.

The room suddenly descended into an eerie quiet, Soap pulling away from Riley quickly and silently. Without a word he redressed, stepping as far back from Ghost and allowing him to do the same. Their eyes didn't meet the entire time, as Soap chose to look to the ceiling rather than to his lieutenant, who had chosen to keep his back to him. When Riley did eventually turn round, his eyes finally met with Soap's, but this time their anger and almost vindictive quality was lost, replaced by an emotion that Soap barely recognised. Confusion? Remorse? Concern? He didn't know and at the time he preferred not to acknowledge it.

"Just get out." Soap shook his head quickly; folding his arms across his chest as Riley quietly complied, striding across the room to the office door. As he reached out to turn the handle, Mactavish spoke again, but he was careful to not let his tone soften. "We'll talk again later…"

"Whatever you say…_sir_…"

* * *

Later, his room dark aside from the light from his laptop monitor, Soap began work on his report to Shepherd. By his hand was a tumbler filled with whisky, the fiery liquid at least making the paperwork that little more doable.

His hands were hesitating over the keys of his keyboard when Soap began to write about Scarecrow's condition and more importantly the events that had lead to it. He knew that with the right words he could have Riley replaced as second command, hell if he was really clever he could have him replaced and Riley sent packing from the task force for good. But somehow Mactavish couldn't bring himself to type them. Maybe it was because deep down he knew that Simon Riley was, as he said himself, a damn good soldier. Maybe it was the memory of all the times that Riley's skill and quick thinking had got them _out_ of trouble. Or maybe it was simply because Ghost had been right, perhaps it was the guilt. Soap didn't know. The only thing he did know was that he wasn't ready for Ghost to pay the full penalty for his actions. Not yet anyway…

So he put it down to a miscommunication, something that he doubted Shepherd would believe but would at least accept. As for Soap? Well he just hoped that someday Riley would repay the trust that he had in him…

* * *

**So…a little gratuitous angry sex is good for the soul I find. Either way, if you enjoyed my smut with very little actual plot then I would love to know…because, well let's be honest the attention definitely keeps me writing. :D **

**-x-S-x- **


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